


A Clean Ending

by Miriam_Heddy



Series: Blond Bombshell [4]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:20:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriam_Heddy/pseuds/Miriam_Heddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is alright in the end. If it's not alright, it's not the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clean Ending

The sun wasn't yet up when Vince found himself awake, at first not sure what had woken him. Then he woke all the way and heard the sound of Howard heaving into the toilet, then the toilet flush, then silence. He saw the door to the loo was open but the light was off.

Vince got himself out of bed and opened the door, turning on the light switch. Howard was sat back on his bum, legs curled round him as he was squeezed into the small space between the toilet and bath.

His eyes were shut and his face was pale. 

Vince took the flannel he'd used for his face and ran it under the faucet, then squeezed it and knelt down on the floor beside Howard, using it to clean Howard's face and mustache. Howard kept his eyes shut, though Vince knew he was conscious from the way he tensed up when the cold flannel touched his face.

When he was done, Vince rinsed the flannel and squeezed it out, leaving it on the rod to dry, then wet some loo roll with a bit of his makeup remover and did a quick wiping down of the toilet before flushing it again and scrubbing his hands clean, drying them on the larger towel that was still damp from his shower. Now the room smelt like peppermint and Scotch and bile. But it would have to do.

He turnt and held out both hands to Howard, who ignored them, levering himself up with the help of the wall, till he was upright. He looked at Vince without expression, and Vince shrugged and went to stand in the doorway.

He watched as Howard gripped the basin with shaky hands, then rinsed his mouth and cleaned his teeth, then turnt back to the toilet and did a wee.

Vince went back to bed and sat under the duvet, listening to water run through the pipes, seeing the light switched off, and watching as Howard's tall but hunched figure walked to the bedroom door, headed for the lounge. He'd taken off his trousers and shirt and wore only an undershirt and pants.

Howard had nearly pulled the bedroom door shut before Vince managed to force out the word, "Stop," and then, when Howard did, "Sleep in here, alright?"

Howard came back inside the bedroom but waited, keeping the door open. 

"I said get in the bloody bed, Howard. I'll not say it again."

Howard shut the bedroom door with a nod and came to the bed, then got in on his usual side, lying on his back and keeping his body well clear of Vince. 

Vince lay himself back down and, surprising both of them, scooted over and pressed his naked body against Howard's side, putting one leg over Howard's legs and putting his arm across Howard's chest, careful not to touch his belly, as it was likely still upset. Howard was laid so close to the edge of the bed, one arm was hanging off it. The other was caught between Vince's upper body and Howard's side. 

On any ordinary night, Howard would've been lying closer to the center of the bed, and his trapped arm would be around Vince, with Vince's head resting on it or pillowed on Howard's chest, at least till they fell asleep, and then they'd end up spooning, with Vince being the small spoon, back against Howard's front.

Vince expected that was how they'd end up, and as he shut his eyes, he felt Howard's tense body ease up a bit.

"I love you," Vince said, as it was true.

Howard's body went tense again, and he took in a shallow breath, letting it out quietly.

Vince waited, then added, "You've really cocked this up." That was true as well.

"I know," Howard whispered.

"And?" Vince prodded.

"And I haven't a clue how to make things right."

Vince sighed and whispered, "Nor do I."

When they were still at the Zooniverse, they'd lie in their cots, whispering till one of them fell asleep. Vince usually dropped off first, sometimes leaving a story half-told. In the morning, Howard would say, "How'd it end?" and often as not, Vince, having forgotten what story he'd told, would tell Howard he'd have to think of an ending himself.

It was like that now, Vince reckoned. He didn't know how it would turn out. 

What Howard seemed not to get was that Vince made it all up as he went along, so when he stopped talking and fell asleep, he hadn't yet thought of the resolution.

Howard liked his stories typed up and orderly, with a beginning, middle, and end all plotted out. Vince reckoned that was likely why Howard had yet to finish writing one. It was hard to see how things would end if you'd hardly got to the middle.

Vince thought he should remind Howard of that, but he was tired and frustrated and still so very furious he felt like his head would up and explode from it if he didn't shut it down soon.

Still, before he fell asleep, he managed to whisper, "It's not the end."

And Howard must've understood that, at least a bit, as he answered, in a rough, unsteady whisper, "I love you, too."

Vince nodded and hugged him closer.


End file.
